


Lay Me Down in a Secret Grave

by Innocentfighter



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Gen, Josh has PTSD, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, Post Season 1 Episode 22, Post What Kind of Day Its Been, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sam has OCD, sam has ptsd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 18:17:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14194866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Innocentfighter/pseuds/Innocentfighter
Summary: Before passing the bar exam, Sam joins the military. Josh separates their friendship into categories.





	Lay Me Down in a Secret Grave

**Author's Note:**

> I felt bad because I hadn't posted things in awhile, I found this a prettied it up (i.e edited). I love the West Wing, but its really awkward writing for it, because it has such a small fandom these days, but hopefully you enjoy.  
> I couldn't get this idea out of my head Sam being in the military and I hardcore headcanon him having OCD (of some form, in this case it was obsessive/compulsive about neatness) not written here is him getting stuck on a line when writing.  
> Additional warning, Josh's view on PTSD aren't overly healthy but keep in mind the time period (and also that the writer does not necessarily agree with the dismissive language used).  
> Please enjoy?

Josh rubbed at his eyes, the numbers blurring on the paper. Half of them didn’t make sense, and after a quick glance at the digital clock on his desk, he understood why. It was 2:43 in the morning, and he had to be at the office by 7:00 for the rundown of the press conference. He sighed, sleepless nights were becoming more frequent as they neared the date of the special election. His candidate was still trailing by 3 points. Not enough to throw in the towel, but the staff was starting to get nervous.

As he stood to start getting ready for bed, which consisted of taking off his shirt and pants and collapsing on his bed, there was a knock on the door. He frowned, that was never a good thing. Part of him began to get anxious, the only person that he could think of that would be cause for a knock on the door was someone he hadn’t seen in almost six years.

Josh shook his head, the likelihood of it being _him_ was as likely as Chicago turning red. He laughed at his own joke and went to answer the door, it could be as simple as a lost food delivery person. Without much thought, he flung to door open.

“Sam?” He blurted after a couple of seconds.

“Hey, I probably should’ve called, but I didn’t know if you kept the same number, but I kept one of your Christmas cards and it still had the return address and I figured that it couldn’t hurt to check.”

Josh blinked, “Sam Seaborn?”

“Yes?” Sam said after a pause.

He took a second to center himself. Sam hadn’t changed, despite there being six years between the last time that they had seen each other. His hair was shorter, he was tanner, and he stood differently. Still as sure as ever, but with a tilt. Josh realized it was probably to stop from aggravating an injury.

“Uh,” Sam cleared his throat.

“Come in,” Josh stood to the side.

Sam picked up his bags and moved them into the living room, next to the pull-out couch. He sat down, and Josh joined him. They sat in silence for several minutes.

“I was injured in Iraq, that’s why I’m here,” Sam offered, “honorable discharge.”

Josh nodded too uncertain to ask about it. He didn’t know where the lines of their friendship were any more, and the topic of the military had always been a tense one between them.

“Welcome back,” Josh finally settled with.

Sam smiled tiredly at him, and the world seemed to tilt back onto its axis.

Josh began to separate their friendship into college and post-deployment.

* * *

There were considerable changes to Sam that Josh noticed. Nothing on the surface aside from a bullet-shaped scar on Sam’s knee. All other changes were only changes that mattered to someone who knew pre-deployment Sam. He was neater, almost fanatical about everything having a place and everything is in that place. There was less nativity but that was replaced with idealism. Sam was quicker to get something done once he was told to do it, but he was always willing to get into a debate. More sirs and ma’ams filled his vocabulary. He couldn’t sit with his back to an exit or entrance, loud noises made him hit the floor, and he was never really settled always scanning for something.

Josh knew all of this, and part of him knew that it was residual military conditioning. The other part of him was too afraid to label the symptoms to the condition. He couldn’t kill his best friend’s career before it began. And G-d, Sam Seaborn, who was going to be great where ever he settled at, was going to brilliant with the right candidate.

They never talked about the night he came back from deployment. He has swept that under the rug, and Sam didn’t seem to be forthcoming with any of the details willingly. It was an understood equilibrium, Josh didn’t comment on the under-eye bags and Sam never mentioned the small drinking binges after getting a candidate elected that wasn’t the _Real Deal._

Eventually, The Summer of Post-Deployment came to an end when Sam finally found a company that was willing to take his credentials and set him to work with the law. He moved to a different part of New York, and Josh became a weekly call.

A monthly call, when Lisa came back in the picture. Josh moved on to other political positions, just relieved that his best friend wasn’t getting shot at in a desert anymore.

* * *

 Almost five more years pass before Josh as an excuse to pull Sam into a job that will make him brilliant. Bartlet, of all people, was the _Real Deal._ Josh should’ve known, Leo didn’t bet on lame stallions. Sam needed to get back into politics, and Bartlet for America needed the Seaborn flair.

It was a glimmer of the old Sam, _finally,_ when he walked out of the boardroom yelling about going to New Hampshire. They were going to make a man president or try to and without a second glance, Sam had joined them.

Both had handed their resumes over to Leo at the same time. Carefully Leo had looked Josh up and down before setting the resume on the desk.

“If I needed a resume, I wouldn’t have asked you.”

 Sam looked at Josh in wonder. He only shrugged.

“I don’t know you," Leo remarked after he glanced at Sam, "but I’ve heard of you. You’re a talented lawyer."

“Yes, sir,” that was part of Sam’s selling point, his confidence.

Leo had looked through the file for several long minutes, “you’re new to the politic game.”

“Only on paper, sir,” Sam replied.

Josh hoped that he could break his friend of that habit, it wasn’t forced sounding, but it lent to the angel of inexperience. Veterans of the field could take advantage of it.

Leo snorted, “your portfolio is impressive, your writing, it’s good. Welcome aboard, pending Toby’s approval.”

Josh had only heard rumors of the speechwriter, and he winced. Sam, on the other hand, seemed thrilled that his work was going to be graded by the man.

Toby, to everyone’s surprise, liked Sam’s work. He never said it in so many words, but there was just a way that the older man looked at him. Sam had grinned like a child.

Josh began to separate their friendship into college, post-deployment, and Bartlet.

* * *

The months of working on _The Campaign_ pulled Sam further away from post-deployment. Josh slowly began to breathe easier with each passing day, and each forgotten sir or ma’am. There was more ease to his word flow, and his natural talent for cadence had reemerged. Toby began giving Sam the parts of the speech that were going to be the ones to stick with the people. Each sentence in a paragraph became a profound statement to move their supporters and gain them new ones.

Once, Josh had heard Toby remarking to C.J, “I don’t know where this kid came from, but with some mentoring and experience, he’ll be something.”

Josh grinned because even he didn’t know how much of something Sam was going to be.

* * *

The last week leading up to the General Election was tense. Sam and Toby had begun the revision stage of the victory speech. Donna had started a pool on how long it was going to be before either one of their writers emerged from the “communications” office of their campaign headquarters.

It was then, that Sam’s quirks began to really show. At least the quirks about the compulsive neatness of his space. Toby was by no means a disorderly person, but when it came down to stressful speech writing, papers got left and files were strewn about at haphazard angles. Sam, no matter how many references or drafts he needed, always had a place for them.

It was an obvious clash that Josh should’ve seen coming. Toby had snapped at Sam during one of their “mandatory breaks for minimal survival” as C.J dubbed it. The whole thing was about how Sam was wasting time on straightening things up when he could be fixing paragraph 14.

Sam had shot back that his thoughts were cluttered when his space was.

“It isn’t that messy!” Toby responded, “there are only a couple of files out of place.”

It was Abbey that had apparently put two-and-two together and got four because she had gingerly pulled Sam away and after only a couple of minutes of conversation, she was pulling Toby across the room in the other direction.

Things went a lot smoother after that. Josh didn’t know how he should feel about Sam being comfortable enough to put a name to part of what he was going through. The words still stuck in the back of his head, like if he even thought them, there would be an investigation into Sam’s competence.

Toby wrote the concession speech alone, and Sam polished the victory speech for the eighth time after the polling data had them pulling ahead two points. Everyone pretended to not notice that Sam’s orderliness had begun to spread out into the base.

* * *

Working in the White House, was a different beast altogether. But Sam was flourishing where Josh was apparently failing, with three major blunders to his name and they were barely into their first year of the presidency. Now that Josh had the ability to watch Sam all day, he noticed that less of Post-Deployment Sam was present. The Communications bullpen was a class 5 catastrophe of paper: memos, documents, and various out-of-date drafts littered everyone’s desks. All except Ginger and Bonnie’s desks, and Sam’s of course. Most days Sam’s door was only cracked enough to let people know he wasn’t in a meeting. On those rare days that it was wide open, his immediate view wasn’t met with the disorder.

Josh really loved the assistants. They thought of things no one else had time for.

Everything was good, they could govern and they could make everything better hopefully for everyone.

* * *

Josh honestly wondered how the topic of Sam’s military record was never even mentioned in passing. Truthfully, he had no reason to bring it up, and Sam had established an aura of ignorance when it came to that subject. No one really talked to the Deputy Communications Director about that stuff anyway.

The secret came to the light the same night that they all got the reminder of why there were armed guards at every turn.

Josh had gone down within the first couple of shots, pulling himself upright and behind a ledge, he had enough sense to listen to the _get out of the way_ that echoed in his head. There were still more shots being fired, and his pressure on the wound was slipping as he felt it getting harder to breathe.

In the next several minutes, he would be dead. But then like bald angel Toby appeared and began yelling for help. Josh hadn’t even thought that the man could yell in anything other than anger, considering how quiet he was the rest of the time.

And then Sam was there. Yelling in a voice that Josh couldn’t help but wonder who taught him to sound like that. Sam was always serious, but there was a lightness to his words that always (and mostly for the better) dulled the edges. There was nothing light about this. It was an order plan and simple. Hands that were meant for jotting down half-finished phrases were pressing roughly on his chest and getting covered in blood. It took Josh an alarming amount of time to realize that it was his blood.

The rest of the night was fuzzy and there was a large space of time in which he knew nothing. Maybe he said, “what’s next?” to a man leaning over his bed.

Really, the next thing that he recalled was waking up with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. He remembered looking to his side and seeing Sam, miraculously, curled into the wooden hospital chair. Then he realized that C.J was standing by the door. Obviously, she had been there awhile by the lack of surprise on her face at Josh being awake.

“How do you feel?”

Josh thought for a second, “alive.”

C.J nodded, and then turned her gaze over to Sam, “he’s been here every moment that he can spare, and since the President isn’t giving a speech yet, it’s been a lot of moments.”

He hadn’t thought there would be any other explanation. If it had been Sam in this position, Josh would’ve been unbearable to have in the office. Only he was needed more frequently than the Communications department.

 “Did you know that he was an Army medic?” C.J asked.

Josh nodded, “yeah, I knew him in grad school. I saw him off when he was deployed.”

C.J crossed her arms, “how did we not know that?”

He tilted his head. He wasn’t included in the ‘we.’ She meant Toby and herself, maybe Bartlet. Leo knew Josh was certain of that. It was a social thing and not important to the press corp. If it was, C.J. wouldn’t be this calm. Not that she would yell at a guy who had been knocking on death’s doorstep only a few hours ago, but she wouldn’t be as loose in her stance.

“He doesn’t like talking about it,” Josh replied.

“Did something happen?”

  Josh shrugged slightly, “he’s never told me the full story.”

  At that moment Sam woke up, quickly, because Josh knew that the last time Sam could afford waking up leisurely was in the months after the Bar exam.

 “Josh!” He grinned, “how do you feel?”

 “Alive, thanks to you.”

 It was a test, and Josh got the answer that he expected. Sam shrank back into the chair.

 “Not really, I only kept your heart from stopping and from you loosing too much blood. That wouldn’t have mattered if the surgeons couldn’t repair the artery.”

The door clicked shut quietly, he only noticed because Sam was turning towards it. C.J had left. Josh sighed and gingerly readjusted himself.

“You gave them the chance to repair the artery,” Josh said earnestly.

“Yeah,” Sam answered.

Alarm bells rang in his head, but he couldn’t say anything as he was suddenly being lured to sleep by the siren song of painkillers.

Josh began to separate their friendship into college, post-deployment, Bartlet, and Roslynn.

* * *

There was a unofficial rule that was in play when Josh finally returned to the White House, no one was to mention Roslynn to him. Sam had been sent home for a couple of days rest, which confused Josh to no end. He’d been seeing Sam frequently while he recovered at home, in fact, more often than not Sam stayed the night because it was just easier than the twenty-minute drive it would take to get from Josh’s apartment to his own.

He had seemed fine then.

Leo apparently had noticed other things at work.

“Josh,” Leo began, and Josh knew that this was a social meeting.

“What’s up?” He asked, but he knew where this was going.

"Sam, how much do you know about what happened to him?”

“I don’t know anything beyond he got shot in the knee and honorably discharged. We don’t talk about it. Apparently, he was a medic, but I learned that recently.”

Leo nodded. It was sage-like, and Josh knew then that at least someone had a vague idea of what Sam was trying to hide, “be careful.”

Josh tilted his head, “everything is fine, doctors say that I don’t have to worry about much so long as I don’t exercise heavily.”

“No, Sam was a combat medic, who was just put back into the line of fire,” Leo replied, “and you were just shot. No one comes back from that unscathed.”

_Oh._ I nodded then. “I’ll talk to Sam tonight.”

“Good,” Leo responded, “good luck, and welcome back.”

Only when he left the office did Josh wonder why Leo of all people told him to watch out for Sam. It was usually Sam watching out for Josh- _Oh._

Work, for once, couldn’t end fast enough. It was a light day, and Josh suspected Donna delegated the less important tasks out so that he could be on his way out of the door at 7:13. He went straight to Sam’s place.

The door was locked, and it took a full minute of pounding on the door before Josh realized that Sam wouldn’t want to hear the door. He changed tactics and called him.

“I’m at your front door,” Josh said.

“Why?” Sam answered.

In the background, he could hear Sam shuffling.

“We need to talk.”

“Okay.”

It was a conversation that was years in the making. Ever since Sam showed up at his house after the deployment. The door clicked open quietly.

“Hey,” Sam greeted.

“Hey,” Josh replied.

For the first time in a long time, Josh was at a loss for words about what to say. He and Sam never had this kind of silence. Not since the first few minutes of their friendship and they were reaching for something that they had in common.

 Josh sat down on the couch and Sam looked like he was a stranger in his own home.

“What happened, over there?” Josh asked.

Sam pulled a face before he sighed and sat down next to Josh.

“I was only in combat once,” Sam said, but then he restarted, “my original deployment was to a hospital in Germany. After some time there I was sent to Iraq.”

Josh spent a couple of seconds trying to think about when American soldiers would’ve been in Iraq at that point.

“Operation Provide Comfort,” Sam answered, “It wasn’t supposed to be combat heavy. There were only a few times that shots were fired. I was part of a patrol group.”

Josh remained quiet.

“They were dressed like refugees, but then they were brandishing their weapons at us, guns that were clearly American,” Sam was wringing his hands, “it was short. Maybe only ten minutes. I was trying to pull one of my unit mates to shelter. A bullet caught me in the knee.”

For some reason, Sam in combat surprised him. He would have never guessed it, he knew it made sense because there were few other situations in which someone can be shot, but Sam was always the ones to fight with words. He was a master debater.

“The gunshots brought me back. In the hospital where I was healing, I could hear skirmishes,” Sam said, “that’s all.”

Josh pressed his lips together, he didn’t want his shock to show. Sam didn’t use closers, he let people know when he was done talking by his voice or by the wording of the sentences. Usually, someone cut him off before he could get that far. Josh always suspected that Sam had three sentences written in his head for every one that was said in conversation.

“Okay,” Josh had said.

It was the end of that.

* * *

Sam had been the one to find him after he cut his hand. Out of everyone, he wasn’t surprised that it was him. After that afternoon, the one he learned about Sam’s experience, they had been spending more time together. Maybe Sam had seen the same _thing_ developing in Josh that he had.

Now someone was going to put a name to it, and that was not going to end well for his career. But at this moment, the only person that had to convince that he was fine was Sam.

“I just cut my hand on a glass,” Josh replied.

Sam only looked at him, then the clearly broken window and then back to Josh.

“Don’t lie to yourself,” Sam said.

Except, that’s not where the sentence ended because Sam was better at implying things now. Toby had taught him the talent of nuance, the lesson taught there was as much weight in what you say as there is in what you don’t say.

The rest of that sentence was _about this. Don’t lie to me about this._

Josh figured that getting sucker punched was a better fate than having Sam Seaborn be disappointed in you. The only people Sam Seaborn was disappointed in were the people that could live up to high standards but didn’t. He didn’t want to be part of that group.

He knew that he fit in it though. Sam was his best friend for an uncountable number of years now, and he had never asked about that unnamed thing. What he could do to help. With Sam, he never needed to ask. It was always freely given or Sam himself asked for it.

Apparently, Sam wasn’t afraid to swing at the ninety-mile inside fastball that was this unnamed thing.

“No one can know,” Josh pleaded.

Sam pressed his lips together before began to speak, “I won’t tell anyone. Not directly.”

Josh knew that Toby and Leo were about to be paying a lot more attention to him in the coming days. Hell, they might get enough proof to call in a guy. He couldn’t have that, if word got out he would be finished.

“I’m also not going to leave you alone,” Sam finished.

Again, Josh could hear the implied _in this. I’ll be by your side for as long as I need to be._

He felt like crap because he had never gone above and beyond for Sam like Sam was doing for him right this very moment.

 Josh swallowed, “not tonight. Maybe not next week. At some point, we need to talk.”

He could only hope that Sam would hear his _because I need help and I’m scared to death that this is going to end my career._

 “Okay,” was all Sam said.

Instead of anything, Josh swallowed and asked a question.

 “Why did you enlist?”

Sam tilted his head, thinking deeply, “I wanted to defend the country I wanted to lead.”

 Josh huffed out a laugh. Of course, it was that simple. Sam only had one goal in his mind, but it still didn’t explain why he didn’t want to do something involving the military’s laws.

 Josh didn’t think he wanted an answer to that. If anything, Sam being a medic made the most sense in this entire mess: Sam just wanted to help people. He didn’t know how long it would take him to talk about this unnamed thing, maybe it would take him months maybe it would take him weeks or day. He did know that Sam would be at his side ready to talk when he was.

Josh began to separate their friendship into college, post-deployment, Bartlet, Roslynn, and the future.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm like 98% sure I was going to write more, but this was a decent enough place to end it, and I said all I wanted to on this topic. Maybe at some point I'll explore this more in depth. Hope you enjoyed and leave your thoughts below.


End file.
